Dance of The Leaves
by Xtase
Summary: As the years go by the summer leaves continue to dance. And amidst the whirlwind, Uzumaki Naruto must make his choice. A choice that will require all his courage to follow through, regardless of the path he chooses to take.
1. Chapter 1

I Hereby declare that I claim no rights to **NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. **and receive no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

_Hello. My apologies if this chapter seems overly long. It is meant to be an introduction; and I have no intention of making future chapters anywhere near this long. So please bear with me, and forgive me for this as well as the next instalment; they will get shorter by chapter three._

Dance Of The Leaves

Buun buunn, a bumblebee burrs. Its fuzzy body is sticky and brimming with nectar as it zips back to the hive. A boy pauses as it darts across his path. He is coming back from a special errand; a trip to the market. In his right hand is a plastic bag full of cherry tomatoes; for his three year old brother's dessert.

The boy stoops in the shade of the ancient Keyaki tree. Its low branches umbrella over his head: a shield from the bright summer rays that manage to pierce through its foliage make a dapple pattern on his silky mop of dark hair. His fair skin stains green in the shade and his eyes resemble the deceptively still waters of a swamp. They are contemplative, as he is taking a moment to think of his little brother, who doesn't seem to be very fond of sweets.

Summer has arrived, when you suck the nectar of suikazura flowers simply to feel that syrupy sweetness coat your tongue and make your fingers sticky. You pluck satonishiki from trees and eat until your lips and tongue stain crimson. Carefully you tuck the precious cherry pits inside your back pocket so that later on you and your friends can hold contests to see who can spit them the farthest. Spending every ryo that comes your way on ame at the churlishly named Umai stall, where the kindly old lady hands them to you in a brown paper bag. You inwardly rejoice as carry them off, casually slipping one past your lips and slowly sliding the candy around on your mouth. Then you slide that lovely smooth roundness against your cheek with your tongue and it makes a charming bump appear on the side of your face.

Sometimes you visit the Dangoya and sit on one of the simple benches inside the shop, observing the menus hanging from the walls while you wait for your anmitsu to arrive before slurping it down. And sometimes a cheeky albeit very pretty brown eyed girl is in the shop too. She winks at you saucily when she catches you looking. After you go home for lunch you sit on the verandah of your house with your family. And your mother serves up chunks of honeydew melon for dessert. You watch the fruit glisten for a moment before sinking your teeth into its thick, sweet, juicy flesh and think that life is peachy. He has done all these things today, the first day of summer. The day his brother tries melon for the first time; but does not like it.

After swallowing the bite with some difficulty, he pushes his slice away.

"Don't like sweet stuff" he complains. A small smile of bemusement touches their father's lips. A child who doesn't like sweet things? Is that possible?

"Are you sure sweetie?" his mum asks. The child bobs his head up and down firmly.

"Don't like sweet stuff" he repeats. Their father chuckles lowly. He is perhaps the only child in the entire village who dislikes sweets, the man thinks to himself. He leans toward his youngest son "Well what would you like?" he will indulge the boy, just this once. It couldn't hurt.

The toddler eagerly proclaims " Tousan! I like tomatoes!" and his parents exchange a look; "I should

have known" it clearly means. He does indeed like tomatoes, a little too much in his mother's opinion.

"But we just ran out of tomatoes" their mother says. The toddler's face falls iin his dismay, something his ani does not miss. At this point he piped up"I could go out and get some for him". As the rest of the family turns to him, he is already getting up "It's no trouble" he continues. His little bother perks up immediately, "Really, Niisan?" he asks hopefully.

Their father smiles at his older boy "All right, off you go. But come straight home afterward, no dawdling." his son nods and replies "Yes, chichi-ue" in a flash he slips into the house and is on his way to the front door.

"Wait, you need money" his mother calls as she swiftly moves to the front door as well.

"I have some, don't worry about it, Kaasan!" he replies, he is already twenty yards away from the house. He raises a hand in a wave as he jogs away. She sighs and leans against the door frame. How on earth does he manage to fasten his sandals and run that far so quickly? She shuts the door and retreats into her home. Making her way to the verandah, she finds her husband seated on the surface of their garden pond, their son perched on his lap, watching the koi swim in the depths with wide eyes.

"Your clothes will get wet, darling." she says disapprovingly.

"It's a small price to pay. Just look at him." he indicates the giggling child in his arms. He is happily splashing water with his pudgy little hands, sweet laughter bubbling out of his lips. His mother smiles at the pleasant sight. She stretches her slender arms above her head and arches her back before sitting back down.

"Ah, and when his brother comes home he'll be even happier" she acquieses. "But you agreed to let him go out too easily. He didn't even finish his dessert" she looks pointedly at her husband. He does not look up and takes a moment before stating "You may want to take a look at his plate". She glances to her left. It is empty except for a yellow rind and the little black seed pips.

She huffs "That doesn't prove anything. You could have eaten it". Her husband chuckles once more, the creases under his eyes dip, very attractively she admits despite herself. But she will not convey her admiration in any way, she will not give him the satisfaction.

"You have such little belief in our son, kaasan" he states in a mock-grave tone. Her head snaps up and she shoots him a glare. And he merely smiles at her, a gentle curvng of his full lips. He sits calmly, regally with his heir clasped gently in his arms, and just gazes at her. And in this moment, her breath catches in her throat, the beginnings of an intense blush introducing itself to her cheeks. After all these years, even at the most inopportune times, how can she still be so affected by his charm? The quality and intensity of emotion that smile brings on seems not to diminish in the slightest, despite the passage of time. In fact its power over her has increased, given the fact that her husband is very serious most of the time and only occasionally has the opportunity to completely unwind.

She angles her head away and lets her dark curtain of hair swing in place to hide her blushes. She tries to gather her wits, but a deep, heart-palpitating chuckle reverberates through her ears, making her spine tingle in pleasure.

"Look at me, kaasan" his deep voice floats to her on the light breeze. Feeling a bit light headed she braces her arms, palms flat against the cool wood decking. Unable to stop herself, she looks his way, and the sight she beholds both thrills and mortifies her. He is staring at her, eyes smoldering, right eyebrow cocked, his lips curling in a _very _provocative smirk.

Her entire face flashes crimson as she chastises him "Not in front of the baby!"At his wife's affronted expression his amusement intensifies. "Kaasan, he's not a baby. And besides... you're so beautiful when you're angry..." he teases her. His eyes are smoky with warmth. He has never been so inviting as he is to her now. It is almost intoxicating, this sensation he inspires within her. Before this progresses any further, she neatly turns away and begins to stack the dishes. Her lovely face quirks in a defiant frown as she gets up and stalks into the house, glaring at her husband over her shoulder.

"I meant it as a compliment, really." he calls.

"Shut up!" she snaps in irritation, retreating into the coolness of the house.

Depositing the dishes into a sinkful of cold water, she sighs once more and dips her hands into its depths. Damn that man, even her ears are burning. "If either of the boys ever leatn to smirk like that, the village girls are done for..." she murmurs aloud while gazing out of the window.

Back in the garden her husband tries to restrain his mirth until his shoulders quake with the effort. Focussing on the child in his lap, he attempts to get a hold of himself, lest he forgets to control his chakra and the two of them end up in the pond. Kaasan would probably laugh her ass off, after killing him for submerging her baby in pondwater of course. The mental image this thought conjures up in his mind's eye makes him snort in laughter.

The littlest family member finally becomes aware of this by the ripples his father makes on the pond's surface. His little face peers up at his father, and his chubby cheeks flush with pleasure at the pleasant sight he witnesses. The little one is happy, and it is too much for his father to bear. He finally lets out a loud bellowing laugh, and his son follows suit with his own cooing giggles. The toddler doesn't exactly know what tousan is so happy about, but it pleases him all the same. And he thinks, tousan looks better like this, he looks like niisan when he smiles. "Tousan is happy!" he chirrups, and his father's grin widens.

I'm glad I was able to marry your mother. I'm glad that you and your brother were born. I'm glad the four of us are together. Those are his thoughts in that happy moment of clarity.

Meanwhile another little boy standing beneath the oldest tree in his village steps out of the shade into the sunlight.

Then the breeze comes daintily. It whispers softly through his hair, gently flipping a few strands across smooth dewy cheeks. The summer zephyr playfully puffs through his clothes. The shirt billows out from his back, trickling through the lacework of body mesh beneath.

Some breathy sound escapes him as he lifts his arms and laces his fingers behind his head. A small white shopping bag dangles from his hand. It gently sways as he arches his spine in a stretch. The eager wind gusts through the round armholes of his sleeveless shirt. It toys with the raised collar, and the material yields, jauntily flapping against the boy's throat.

He sighs once more, the wind calms in response: he is rewarded by cool breath trilling across the beating pulse in his neck. Unseen fingers feather through jet hair and tickle his scalp. Fwuu...fwuu, it murmurs to him. Tenderly it kisses his temples and soothes his brow.

As he walks down a beaten dirt path flanked by trees on both sides, the west wind sweeps through their lush foliage. And the brilliant green leaves come to life. They make a rioutous chuckle as they dance. Cheerily they turn and dip and chatter to each other. Some glitter like emeralds, some like chips of green bottle, some like little lime drops. A few break free of their branches to cheerfully twirl in gusty air thrumming with the exuberant chirrup of birds. Their rhapsodious twitters reverberate in his ears.

The boy takes a short cut through a meadow of soft springy grass and tall stalks of himawari. Smiling coal eyes turn up as he faces the sky and watch clumps of pure white floss traverse its arch. The luminous yellow face floating in the heavens observes this little face on the earth. The boy again voices his pleasure, this time a laugh. The corners of the eyes crinkle, the soft creases underneath them dip. The black pools glitter and the pink lips form a smile. Looking at the nodding yellow faces of the himawari flowers he decides to pick one for his mother.

Many of the flower stalks tower over his head, so he picks one of the smallest he can find. It comes to just above his shoulder. He gets a good grip on the stem and carefully uproots it with neat, sharp tugs so as not to bend the stem. Presently he has the plant in his hands, ready for his inspection. He curls his fingers around the dark green stalk, feeling its satisfying weight and angling the radiant yellow flower toward his face.

A tiny frown dimples his forehead as he closely inspects it for any damage. After some intense scrutiny, he deems the harm to be minimal, the flower is fit to take home. Pleased with his new acquisition, the boy trips across the meadow towards a small copse of trees at its edge, beyond which is a main road which will lead him staight to his neighbourhood. A few minutes later he comes upon the road, clutching his yellow-headed prize in his left hand and the shopping bag in his right.

The zephyr chooses this moment to return, boldly swooping into his shirt, lifting it above his breast bone. The finely woven chain-mail underneath winks in the bronze sunlight. The nipples rise as the mesh chafes against them. As the wind playfully nips them. Cool breath tunnels through the leg holes of his shorts, mingling with the heat of his thighs. He utters a faint gasp of surprise and pulls his grey shirt down.

Deciding he has done enough dawdling, Uchiha Itachi begins to jog the rest of the way home. Presently he catches sight of a familiar high white wall. Through the gate of the Uchiha District he goes, waving to Teyaki and his wife Uruchi as he passes the ever-busy Uchiha Senbei shop.

Several Uchiha take notice of him on his way. The ladies smile, the men nod in approval, and the children simply regard him with admiration. Except for an older boy with a messy head of hair sitting on a rooftop, who playfully pelts him with overripe apples. Itachi dodges them all with ease and he cheerfully gives the boy his most beaming smile.

"I'll get you yet, shrimp!" Itachi hears him call. He would not mind stopping but he must continue on his way. He tramps past countless paper lanterned doorways and paper fan emblazoned walls until he catches sight of his home. As he reaches the house he feels a crisp sliver of wind whisper in his ear and ghost through his hair. Switching the sunflower to his right hand along with the shopping bag, he opens the door as the gusts cease.

"I'm home!" Itachi calls as he enters the cool darkness of the foyer. Sitting on the wooden ledge he sets down his load and goes for the clasp on his right sandal. However, the telltale pitter-patter of a certain someone's little feet makes him pause, bracing himself for the inevitable impact.

"Niiiisaan! You're back!" Sasuke cries as he launches himself full speed at his brother. Itachi makes no response except for stiffening his back to prevent them both from bowling over onto the hard stone floor at his feet. As small arms wrap themselves around his middle, he nonchalantly resumes unsnapping his sandal, seemingly paying no heed to his brother. Sasuke presses himself against his brother's back, squeezing him tight.

"I missed you, Niisan" the boy eagerly presses a pillow-soft cheek against his ani's, burying his face in his shoulder. No response.

"Niisan!" Sasuke says, his annoyance evident in his tone. His brother is behaving very oddly, not greeting him or smiling, not even looking at him. He lets go of his brother and steps back, observing him warily. He still does not turn around, appearing to be busy with his left sandal.

Is he upset? Is Sasuke the reason he's upset? Does he not like Sasuke anymore? Is he deciding that he doesn't want to be Sasuke's brother any longer? Has he found a new brother? He has been gone a for a while, it could be possible. These thoughts begin to make Sasuke's head swim with worry. The fact that his aniki still has his back to him only makes the little boy more nervous. Sasuke swallows as he watches his niisan adjust his shin wrappings.

"Niisan...?" he says uncertainly.

Itachi slowly turns his head. His expression is serious as he gravely locks eyes with his baby brother. Like a deer caught in the headlights, Sasuke cannot look away. Itachi slowly raises his right hand, unfolding his index and middle finger, aiming at that special spot above his unsuspecting brother's eyes. By the time Sasuke realises what is going to happen it is already too late. His aniki's fingers rap firmly agaist his forehead. The spot he hits, made tender and sensetive by numerous previous assaults promptly begins to smart.

"Ow.." Sasuke raises his little hands to his forehead, eyes shut.

Itachi withdraws his fingers, but he does not seem to be done yet. He raises both his hands and quite unceremoniously plants them on his brother's head. Poor Sasuke cannot so much as utter a squeak of surprise before his brother mercilessly begins to ruffle his already unruly hair. He stumbles and falls backward, and Itachi, who will not let go if his head, tumbles over with him. Taking advantage of their position, Itachi quickly straddles his brother. Removing his fingers from Sasuke's hair, he plunges them into the boy's armpits and begins to tickle him.

The foyer swiftly fills with scuffling noises and Sasuke's breathless sqeals of laughter. Itachi begins to chuckle himself as his baby brother squirms and struggles to escape his grasp. He loves to tease him, he cannot help himself. The kid is simply too adorable not to tease. It's all Sasuke's fault for being so cute. And just as suddenly as he starts, Itachi backs off. Kneeling on his haunches, the boy observes his winded baby brother laying spread eagle on the floor.

The poor thing is completely pink in the face, an angry red mark glaring out from the precise centre of his forehead. His shirt bunches untidily about his shoulders; and his hair! It looks as if the lad has been through a wind tunnel, standing up in every direction. His mouth hangs open as he catches his breath after the struggle. Itachi looms over him, his silken bangs hanging off his face, smiling serenely.

Sasuke immediately sends him a glare that no three year old should be capable of.

"That was mean, niisan!" he frowns splendidly, puffing out his cheeks.

The sight is too much for Itachi, he cannot bear it any longer; he bursts out laughing, right in his brother's face. Sasuke's comical expression, coupled with his spectacular state of dishevelment, is simply too hilarious for words. The little boy laying on the floor feels his cheeks flame, whether from anger or humiliation he does not know. Most probably both. Meanwhile Itachi continues to voice his glee, losing his balance and landing on his rear. This is in itself a feat, for it isn't often that he loses his balance unwillingly.

"Ow." he rubs his rump and laughs even harder "Look what you made me do, Sasuke"

A look of outrage flits across Sasuke's face.

"How is it my fault, you started it!" he accuses rather loudly.

"Cheer up lil' brother, I thought you missed me." Itachi manages to get out between fits of giggles. However, his laughter ceases when he recognises that his otouto is about to throw a tantrum. He must defuse the situation, and quickly.

"Sorry about that, Sasuke" he says pleasantly, lifting the bagful of tomatoes "want some?" the only fool proof way to pacify Sasuke...

And it works like a charm. The little boy pauses for a moment, looking at the proferred peace offering. Then he perks up and scrambles off his back to a kneeling position, palms flat on the floor between his knees. He eagerly eyes the bag with sparkling dark eyes. He can make out familiar red shapes through the plastic.

"Tomatoes?" he inquires. His wide eyes begin to glaze over and his plump pink lips part. He resembles a hungry little kitten who catches sight of a dishful of cream.

"Yeah" Itachi casts a loving gaze at his precious baby brother. He is so cute...

"Itachi, let's get those washed before Sasuke makes a mess"

Itachi turns around to see his mother standing in the hallway, wiping her hands on her apron. She has been observing the duo's antics from the kitchen doorway. The scene was in many ways similar to her exchange with her husband earlier that afternoon. Too similar she thinks, giving her firstborn a significant look.

He's the same, he's just like his father. An utter tease. She glances at Sasuke, who wears a delicate blush on his rotund cheeks. And he is like me, so quick to forgive him, she thinks. With a shake of her head, their mother heads back to the kitchen, beckoning her children. Itachi follows in her wake, with Sasuke not far behind.

During the next half hour Sasuke wolfs down almost all the tomatoes, after his mother washes them and slices them into quarters. His elder brother and father look on in amusement as they sit at the low table with him. And when Itachi decides to go train, Sasuke begs their parents with wide eyes to let him accompany his ani. Surprisingly, Fugaku agrees and the boy happily clutches his brother's hand as he drags him over to the front door. Fugaku stands at the doorway, crossing his arms as he watches them leave. Sasuke bobs up and down, his right hand holding Itachi's and his left clutching his aniki's weapons pouch. They soon become little dots in the distance, and disappear. And Fugaku slips inside the house, a secret smile on his face.

Mikoto is putting the last load of laundry in the dryer when she feels a strong arms encircle her waist. A smug smile flits across her lips.

"Is this why you let Sasuke go with Itachi for once?"

"Mikoto" a simple husky whisper against her ear.

She has been waiting for this, wanting it all afternoon; she cannot deny herself. She has been yearning to her him call hear by name, the way he only does when they are alone together like this. And when they are like this, for a time, she is no longer the mother of their children.

"Mikoto" he repeats fervently, tilting her head back. Yes, now she is only Mikoto, his wife. His lover. She cannot deny him now, when he feels like this. When he makes her feel like this. And so she allows him to seal their lips together in a kiss, sighing in pleasure. And her sighs turn to moans as her apron, then her dress slowly depart from her heated flesh.

_**A/N:**_

_This is it for chapter one. If you have read this far, thank you for bearing with me. I have not really composed any stories for nearly four years, and I fear it's caught up with me: my writing skills have become __very__ rusty. This took me __hours__ to write. Though I suppose the fact that my word processor closed and __I forgot to fucking save__ and had to __rewrite half the story__ as a result may have contributed to this delay. _

_But I digress, this chapter was mostly an attempt to recover some of my skills. I need to do some serious character development and flesh out the personas and ambience of this fic. Almost all the characters mentioned here appear in the manga. Can you guess who the girl at the Dangoya and the boy on the rooftop are? You probably can, I made it pretty obvious. _

_Not much has happened in this chapter (apart from Fugaku getting some, JaJaJa!). However you can expect to see a lot of things in subsequent chapters. It may seem nice and pleasant now but it won't be all rosy for long. Of course there will be plenty of feel-good moments, but as Itachi grows up, there will also be a good dose of angst, resentment and gore. I am trying to make this as realistic as possible, and so I must include elements of both good and bad in the plot._

_I've tried to minimise spelling mistakes, and if I have overlooked any I sincerely apologise and promise to do better. Below are translation notes in case some of you are confused by some of the terms mentioned in this chapter, listed in order of appearance._

_Keyaki__ is an ornamental tree which is also famously used in bonsai. They can grow up to 30 metres tall and live to be thousands of years old._

_Suikazura__ is the Japanese honeysuckle. The flowers give off a sweet, vanilla-like scent and sprout white, fading to yellow._

_Satonishiki__ are cherries._

_Ame__ is hard candy._

_Umai__ means delicious, or yummy._

_Dango__ are small, sweet, sticky little cakes made from glutinous rice. They are shaped into spheres and often skewered on wooden sticks._

_Anmitsu__ are small gelatinous agar cubes served chilled with fruit._

_Himawari__ is the Japanese name for sunflowers._

_Once again, I give my sincerest thanks to everyone reading this fic. Please review below with your suggestions to improve my writing or any ideas you may want to contribute to this fic's plot. _

_Peace,_

_Xtase_


	2. Chapter 2

I hereby declare that I claim no rights to **NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. **and receive no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

_Hello all. In this chapter of Dance of The Leaves, our favourite blond bombshell finally makes his début! This chapter is meant to be more pungent than the last, and I sincerely hope I've managed to pull it off. For the sake of the plot, I have tweaked the timeline a little bit to include the Konoha Orphanage in this fic. I've always wondered who had taken care of Naruto in those early years when he was too young to be self sufficient. So I created this scenario. Now let the show go on!_

Lost

All Uzumaki Naruto could do was keep going. He was hopelessly lost and knew it, but he kept going. Trying to find his way out of another mess he had gotten himself into. But he hadn't been a bad boy on purpose. He hadn't meant to run away. It had just... happened.

He was in one of the densest sections of forest in the village. It was so wild and untamed that the undergrowth enveloped his legs up to the knees. The boy was in constant fear of encountering snakes and spiders and any of a variety of potentially poisonous creatures lurking hidden below. Naruto did not even have any shoes on his feet. Their soft soles were riddled with gashes and cuts caked over with dried blood. Infection was almost certain. His ankles hurt him and his eyes burned and he was light-headed with hunger.

Naruto had not left this forest for nearly two days now. And he had been walking for nearly all that time, only stopping when night fell. On his first evening, he had kept moving long after it had been too dark to see ahead of him.

"I'm not scared of this dumb forest" he had said out loud "It's nothing but a bunch of trees!" his determined little voice affirmed.

He didn't know much, but he knew that trees didn't suddenly get up and attack you. They couldn't even move. He wasn't even completely convinced that they were alive. But Mother Nonō had told him so, and she was really clever, so he was unsure about that. But one thing he was sure of was that trees didn't hurt little boys. The thought had not even finished forming in his mind before he tripped over some thick, twisty, hard thing at his feet.

His arms reflexively came out in front of him to cushion his fall, and he waited for the impact. And he waited. And for some strange reason he found himself falling through air. Naruto had just tumbled over an escarpment. He had been wrong; trees could hurt little boys.

The fall had been a short one, and his landing had been cushioned by a thick low-lying bush. Thinking he had gotten a lucky break, Naruto began to thrash about amongst the hairy leaves. Imagine the unfortunate boy's surprise when he had suddenly felt a wierd prickling sensation erupt across his skin. Confused, he struggled to get out of the bush even more. The prickling had swiftly developed into an awful stinging. It was everywhere. On his arms, his legs, his face, all over.

It had taken him nearly five minutes to fully extricate himself from that dreadful bush. He had been out of breath and itchy and all turned around. But still he had decided to trudge on. He had been really sleepy and wanted to lay down, but he hadn't wanted to be anywhere near that bush. Half an hour later he had hunched down at the base of a smooth-barked tree to rest for the night. At least it had been a warm, clear night with no rain.

The next day had been spent foraging for food. That had been easy. There were plenty of nuts and berries growing in the forest, and Mother Nonō had told him which ones were safe to eat. He hadn't completely been paying attention though, and couldn't recall everything she had said, but he was pretty sure he had remembered enough. The fruit he had picked hadn't made him sick at least.

He had munched his pickings distractedly, bright blue eyes glowing eerily in the now dense foliage of the forest. Here the sun had completely been blotted out by the colossal trees, with only pin-prick rays penetrating the lush green canopy.

Suddenly the peacuful quiet was shattered by the loud beating of hooves. Poor Naruto had almost gotten trampled as a trio of heavily-antlered deer vaulted out of the greenery across his path.

That occurance had repeated itself throughout the day, so that Naruto had to slow his pace considerably to avoid any more surprises. This stretch of land had been crawling with the beasts. But even that hadn't been so bad compared to the itchiness.

The blond had awoken in the bright cold dawn to find a rather unappealing rash of blisters and bumps all over his exposed skin. All day he had been scratching himself, until his fingernails had left long red weals on his arms and legs. He had even broken the skin in some places. His feet were already raw from the numerous pointy stones and bony twigs that lay hidden by the brush the forest floor. But that had not deterred him from pressing forward in the slightest, he wanted to escape this forest as soon as possible.

But the undergrowth had grown thicker and higher, and Naruto had diffculties moving due to his small stature. He was further delayed when twilight came. He had learned his lesson from the night before, blindly blundering about in a forest at night was bad for your health. He had the blisters and scratches to prove it. So he had used the waning light to search for a place to sleep. Amongst one of the thinner clumps of growth he had found a patch of soft dry moss. And that is where he had spent his second night.

And now it was just past midday. Almost forty eight hours since he had first bolted into this forest and lost his way.

Naruto was beginning to lose hope. He was sore, he was lonely. His throat was parched and thirsty and his belly was distended from all the fruit he had eaten. He missed his little bed, the other children, and most of all, he missed Mother Nonō. Fat tears began to drip from the little boy's big blue eyes as he thought of her. If he didn't get out of here, he would never ever see her again...

He was so preoccupied with his sad thoughts that he did not notice the foliage was gradually thinning. Not until he felt a smooth cool surface at his feet instead of the rough stones and dry twigs and leafy vegetation. He paused his sniffling sobs and took a look around. He was standing on a stretch of cool compacted soil that looked suspiciously like a path. There was more sunlight here as well, and the trees were much shorter and neater looking.

The blond's heart began to pound as he was filled with hope. Maybe this would lead him back to the village. With a newfound burst of energy, he bounded his way ahead. And not fifteen minutes later, he saw a bright spot of light ahead. If he could get to it, he would be out of this green-lighted tunnel.

The blond charged forward, and steadily the speck of light grew bigger and bigger. Until at last he emerged from the green fortress into the open. The yellow rays of sunlight made his eyes smart in their sockets; he had grown used to the green gloom of the forest.

He seemed to have come upon a rather large meadow. It sloped gently upward ahead of him and was full of flowers. At the top of the incline grew a large solitary pine. Naruto sighed in relief as the sun bathed him warmly; and the soft soft grass cushioned his feet. But he was not one to stay put for long, he had to find the village! And so the blond began to scramble up the slope to get a better idea of where exactly he was.

When he reached the top he was surprised to see a relatively flat expanse spread out ahead of him. Not too far away grew a small patch of giant sunflowers. And beyond was a clump of trees. Naruto slowly swept his eyes in a circle. There were trees all around, he unhappily registered. But the path had led him here, and where there were paths there were also people...right? The boy seemed to visibly deflate. He didn't want to go into the trees again. What now?

Then his eyes caught a movement in the sunflower patch. Naruto locked his keen blue gaze on the still flowers for a long moment. Had he been mistaken... no, there it was again. Something was definitely moving in there. Naruto warily kept his distance. What if it's a wild animal or something?, he said to himself.

But what came out of the patch wasn't an animal, it was a boy. He looked to be quite a bit older than the blond, and much taller. He wore a sleeveless black shirt with a high collar and simple grey trousers. He didn't look lost at all, Naruto could tell; he was here because he wanted to be. He knew the way back.

Naruto sprang up and began to run towards him, a happy shout rising to his lips. But that cry did not make it past his lips, because Naruto had caught a glimpse of the boy's face.

The boy's face stopped him dead in his tracks. The blond's jaw grew slack and a strangled noise faintly whistled out of his throat. For a moment he ceased to think, he ceased to breathe. He could only open and shut his mouth repeatedly, like a fish out of water. He felt like someone had turned him inside out and hung him out to dry. That boy...

Was turning around. And Naruto began to panic; he must not be spotted! Catching sight of the conveniently located kuromatsu, he quickly took cover behind its thick trunk. The blond pressed his back against the tree and fanned his arms out to embrace it in a type of reverse hug. His heart seemed to be thwacking painfully against his ribcage. His face and ears and even his neck had turned a spectacular shade of puce. That boy... that boy...

_"That boy's a girl!" _he whispered harshly to himeself.

And that _girl _was the most beautiful person he had ever seen! Naruto took a wheezing breath and shut his eyes tight. Had he just glimpsed sort of heavenly fairy? Was this really happening? No _real _person could be that pretty; maybe he had just imagined it.

Carefully he peeped around the trunk. She was still there, facing away from him. The blond stared in fascination. He was certain he wasn't hallucinating now, she seemed real enough. And he spent a brief, endless stretch of time taking in the soft features of her profile. She wore her black hair in a silky bob, with whispy bangs falling in her eyes. And those eyes were pitch black, with long fluttery eyelashes. She had a pretty little rosebud mouth, which she had pursed in a fetching pout: She appeared to be scrutinizing the sunflower she had picked.

Naruto noticed all of this, his gaze unabashedly fixed on her form. And even though he never particularly took notice of girls, he found himself thinking she was perfect. However there was one thing about her that puzzled him. She sure didn't dress like most girls. Her clothes were practical and rather plain, not bright and pretty like the garbs mothers like to dress their daughters in.

In fact, if he ignored her face, she looked just like a boy. Naruto's blue eyes registered the shin wrappings and black sandals. The only girls he had ever seen dress like that went to the Academy. That's it! She must be a kunoichi.

But he was snapped out of his reverie when the beautiful girl turned to leave. The blond caught sight of a large red and white symbol printed on the back of her shirt. He could faintly recall seeing that odd symbol somewhere, it had reminded him of the paper fans he had seen people use to cool themselves in warm weather. He could not exactly remember where he had seen it though; he didn't often visit town.

The girl seemed to take no notice of him as she began to scamper toward the treeline ahead. For a moment the little boy hesitated before sprinting after her. This girl was a really fast runner; it took all of Naruto's effort to keep her in sight.

Before long his legs were burning, he felt his chest was about to explode, and he could hear nothing the thudding of his own heart and the rush of his blood. He couldn't even spare a breath to call out; couldn't stop to recover it either. Naruto knew by the time he could manage any sound above a gasp the girl would be out of earshot.

And the effects of his sojourn in the forest was catching up with a vengeance. He was lagging behind further and further, and could only look on in dismay as he watched the little form penetrate the trees ahead.

And that's when Naruto had had enough. He was tired of being alone and cold and scared. He wanted to go back home, with the other kids, with Mother. And he was going to get back home, even if it took forever! With this in mind, Naruto resolutely kept his eyes trained on the spot the girl had disappeared into. His legs pumped faster as he reached the grove of trees.

Once again he was enveloped by the quiet green forest. There were no footpaths or signs that anyone had ever been here. Had the girl really entered the forest here? There was no trace of any disturbance anywhere. Desperately he searched for a broken twig, a flattened plant, anything. After a few more agonizing moments he saw it; a small depression in the mulchy soil. Naruto went for a closer look... yes, it was a clearly a freshly made footprint. The size looked about right.

The blond scanned the area and spotted a couple more prints half a meter to his right. And when he got to those prints he found a short trail further on. Happily, the little boy followed the tracks that would inevitably lead him home again.

_Ah, this did not go the way I had planned. I had wanted to include the orphanage in this chapter but it was becoming too long. I'll mention how Naruto's forest adventure ended next time. Please review with your criticisms; I need feedbackfrom readers to see if I am going wrong somewhere, and I'm open to any suggestions you might have for this fic.-Peace_


	3. Chapter 3

I hereby declare that I claim no rights to **NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. **and receieve no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

Home Again

Naruto had not stopped grinning. Not since he had come upon the main road and began to tramp on through the bustling streets. He did not notice the worried expressions of passersby at his shocking state. Yes, worried. He was so covered up in dirt and his normally golden hair so caked with muck that no one could recognise him.

"Hey, kiddo! You get beat up or something? Need any help?" A concerned man called out from behind his stall. The boy turned around, showing him a grimy face with clean tear tracks underneath his balmy blue eyes. And he was rendered speechless by the blissful smile on the child's lips. Naruto shook his head no and piped up a simple phrase that felt warm and soft on his lips.

"I'm going home to Mother," And happily scampered away.

"Oi! Oi, don't run off, kid!" he heard the man call, but he paid him no heed.

That man had not known who he was. He had not even seen Naruto's whisker-marks. And despite knowing that kindness had not been directed at _him, Naruto, _he was still happy. And so what if they had recognised him? He was on cloud nine. He would see Mother Nonō again, if only for a short time. And maybe he would get to see _the girl _again as well.

This thought made his insides dissolve into a warm golden puddle and his knees feel mushy. He beamed wider. A little boy in a ripped up tee shirt that hung off his right shoulder heading to the outskirts of town. Smiling blissfully, as if he didn't feel the stings from the numerous cuts and sores adorning his body. And in a way, he didn't. And his spirits soared when he saw the large, barnlike orphanage looming up in front of him. He began to run so fast he felt his muscles grow hot and his head become giddy. And all that came out of his mouth was an endless whooping cry that was almost hysterical.

He was home, homehomehome! His screeching laughter brought out a couple of the warden who ran the orphanage. But Naruto's attention was fixed solely, fiercely on a slim, white-blonde woman. On her shocked expression, the happy tears beginning to pool in her pale eyes. And he felt his own tears course down his cheeks. A hot, torrential flow of wetness streaking down his scarred face. She was here, in front of him. She was really there!

The weeping boy buried himself in her skirts, latching onto her apron for dear life. And he proceeded to bawl his lungs out, drawing out some of the other children. Even though the blond considered them his family, in this moment he could not care less for them. In this moment, the only people in the world were Mother and himself. They were alone in their warm cocoon of complete happiness. Feeling her soft hands gently stroke his unkempt hair, looking up at her kind, kind face. Feeling her cool, soothing tears plinking against his forehead. Naruto thought she looked like an angel, with her flaxen hair and shimmering pale blue eyes. She was his angel. And he hugged her around her knees, never wanting to let go.

Soon enough the entire building was in an uproar. The other warden were swooning in relief at the reappearance of the missing child. They had been about to inform the higher-ups of Konoha of the boy's disappearance. And they would not have been pleased to learn that they had allowed the coveted Kyuubi vessel to wander about unsupervised, vulnerable to abduction. The punishment would have been severe.

The children were thrilled to see their blond friend back. A few even followed Naruto into the bathroom where Mother Nonō was stripping him for a bath. Mother Michiru had had to swat them away with a heavy broom, scolding them in her booming voice. One of the more lively wards, Urushi, could be heard complaining rather loudly as they fled down the hall.

Nonō stood Naruto up in a large metal basin of hot water and scrubbed him hard with a loofah sponge. Washed him with vigour, until the water was brown and murky. Rinsed his hair out with shampoo until it was soft and shiny-gold again. Throughout his bath the blond had not complained once, which was very unlike him. He only had his gaze fixed lovingly on her features. And he willingly let her swathe him in a thick white towel, reaching his arms up for her to carry him off to the ends of the earth.

She sat him on his bed, in his bright sunny room. Applied her homemade calamine to his almost-gone rashes. Gently swabbed the slightly sizzling cuts with iodine solution, even though there really was no need. Naruto's ability to heal was becoming better and better as he aged. Already the wounds had scarred over, and in a few more days would disappear entirely.

Then she led him downstairs, dressed in his favourite bright yellow shirt and mossy green shorts. To the large, homey kitchen teeming with life. And he was greeted by a deafening cheer, courtesy of the children, when he entered. Even the usually dour warden all welcomed him with smiles. And he was smiling, his heart and his tummy were smiling. The fellow young faces beamed at him. And the tallest of them all, Urushi, elbowed his way forward.

"Outta the way! Make room, he ain't seen his present yet," he exclaimed.

The blond's ears pricked up. A present? For him? The older boy grabbed his hand to drag him toward the long, rectaungular table. Naruto hung on to Nonō with his other hand, making her go with him. And as he got closer, an incredible aroma hit his nostrils. That familiar, heady aroma that made his tastebuds jump and his mouth water.

"Ichiraku Ramen; Special Takeaway!" Urushi stated proudly. It had been his idea.

"Ramen," the blond said, a yawning chasm widening in his belly. There in the table sat not one bowl, not two bowls, but three large bowls of the fragrant ambrosia. He could already feel the noodles slipping down his throat.

"Naruto," Nonō said softly, "Whay do you say to your friends when they do nice things for you?" she smiled gently at him, a tender curving of lips. Her cloudy hair was free of its coif and framed her face. Her beautiful face.

"She's right, chibi! Don't be ungrateful and thank us already," Urushi said.

The blond boy looked at him. He looked at the other children's beaming faces. So different from the mean, frowny faces of the other villagers. He looked at the warden, at the bruised-looking bags under their eyes. They had been worried. For him. And he had been a bad boy for making them lose sleep. And his eyes began to mist over as sobs began to rack his little body.

He was sorry, so sorrysorrysorry. He had screwed up and made Mother Nonō and Urushi and the others sad. He had made her cry. He always messed things up. Even though he never meant to. He wept more noisily, whimpering piteously. And then he felt warm, soft arms embrace him. Felt the gentle push of _her _lips on the crown if his head. His eyes were screwed shut but he knew it was her. He knew her smell; rosewater and beeswax. He knew her magic touch. And he cried even harder, though the sound was muffled in her apron. And he decided; until she left for Iwagakure, that he would not let her out of his sight. He would not leave her side again.

Further west on the other edge of town, in her dark bedroom, Uchiha Mikoto held her older son. Cradled him against her, his head buried in her bosom. Seeking comfort, warmth. _Life._ His skin still felt clammy from the way he had been sweating. Looking at her son's fetching features, she swept the damp bangs from his forehead and kissed his brow.

She sincerely hoped his night episodes wouldn't start up again. She didn't know if she would be able to stand the sight of him wobbling unsteadily into her room. Into her bed. Feeling the tacky moistness of his pyjamas. Seeing his eyes glow red in the dark because he had activated his Sharingan in fear.

It had been like that for a year after the Third Shinobi World War. After he had seen all those peolple die in that surprise attack. Almost every night afterward he would have a screaming fit or sneak into his parents' bed. His bright, happy-go-lucky personality had seemed to vanish without a trace. Fugaku had been distraught, and she had constantly lived in the grip of an icy fear.

The fear that the war had broken their child. But it had all miraculously stopped about two weeks after Sasuke was born. The baby had been a good influence on Itachi. Over time he had gained back a good deal of his previous cheerfulness. And though it was never quite the same, his parents could not have been more pleased. Itachi was happy, Sasuke was happy, so they were happy. It was as simple as that.

But now, as she looked into her husband's liquid black eyes rippling with concern for their firstborn, Mikoto began to wonder...

_Sweet Jesus, that was so difficult to grind out. Sorry if this chapter is not up to my usual standard. My spirits have been terribly low for the past few days; but I had to get this done, so I tried to soldier through it somehow_


	4. Chapter 4

I hereby declare that I claim no rights to **NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. **and receive no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

_All right; on with the story my dears. It's time for a time-skip! Naruto has just turned five and Itachi is ten. After doing some hard thinking I've decided to keep little Naruto in the orphanage for a little bit longer. I know part of his his charm is the fact that he suffered and survived a horrible soul-crushing childhood, but I've decided to make his first years a little less lonesome. I do hope you're enjoying this fic the way I am. Enjoy._

Engraving

Naruto liked to sit down on the floor at the foot of his bed after breakfast, hugging his knees to his chest. This morning found him doing just that, with his wide blue eyes fixed intently on the photo perched upon his knees. It was a picture of him...and Mother Nonō.

It was taken on a morning quite like this, bright and early. In it, he was flashing one of his trademark toothy grins. His hair a flare of sunbeams, and his eyes a sparkling maya blue. She was kneeled down next to him, with her cheek pressed against his, holding him, smiling, always smiling, into the camera lens. And everyone else in the orphanage milling around them, in the could easily be mistaken as a snapshot of a happy occasion.

But it hadn't been. Naruto's eyes had been shimmering with unshed tears; his grin was forced. And Nonō's face had been soft in sadness. Not half an hour after this photo had been taken, Nonō had left them, and the village, and Naruto behind for good.

He remembered waiting for his turn to say goodbye to her. Watching some of the other kids cry, and a few of the older ones trying to smile. And when she had reached him, he hadn't known what to do. With her coif off and her apron gone and her arms bare, he felt at a loss. She was too tall, and pretty-smelling, and simply lovely...for him to think straight. But she had known, like always, she had known what it was he wanted. She hugged him tight, so tight and close her cornsilk hair had tickled his nose. Gentling him, stroking his yellow mop and kissing his forehead. And then he had bawled like a baby.

She smelled like honeysuckle and heather and fresh, clear dew drops. And as she had spoken he felt the minty slip of her breath.

"I won't forget you, little lamb." his tiny fists found and twisted into her light summer dress.

"I won't forget you either" he said wetly. She had only sighed and smiled at him sadly.

"Children often forget things as they grow older,"

"I won't!" he had suddenly exclaimed "I won't ever, ever forget you. I'll think about you every day. I promise!"

Nonō seemed to pause for a moment, thinking. And she stood up tall, "Wait for me here," she said, and went into the building. Presently she came back out, with Father Masaki following behind. They found the little blond boy fidgeting under a tree, staring at them curiously. Nonō took his little paw in her own and leaned in so they were face to face.

"Naruto, would you like to take a picture with me?" the boy's eyes grew wide.

"Sometimes you remember someone, but you forget what they look like. Their faces get fuzzy in your mind. Did you know that?" she stroked the little hand in hers."But if we take pictures, we can always keep them, and look at them whenever we start to forget. That's how we remember the faces of the people we love. Do you understand?"

Naruto pumped his head up and down in assent. He wasn't confused by long sentences when he was spoken to. Though he had been only three, he had posessed the vocabulary of a five year old. And Mother Nonō had realised this, before anyone else.

"Do you want to have a picture of the two of us?"

"Yeah, I would,"

"Can you smile for me?" the boy faltered, and his gaze fell. He didn't know if he could.

"I'll try..." he said in a small voice.

And Masaki had taken the photo with the camera Nonō had found inside. And for over two years, every single day, Naruto had kept that picture in between the folds of his clothes. Taken it out every morning, to stare, and bask, in its bittersweet colour-glow. He did not want to forget her face, ever, for even one moment. He had promised her he wouldn't.

.

As Itachi made his way to the Third Training Ground, he knew he was being followed. And he did not even have to look behind him to know who it was that was shadowing him.

The little blond boy had been following him around for two years now, though for what reason he didn't know. He did not know why the child had taken a shining to him. Always tailing him from a safe distance; ready to dart behind a bush, or a wooden crate, or a tree. Never quite daring to come up to him. Perhaps he was afraid that he would rebuke him like the other villagers.

Itachi knew exactly who Naruto was, and he knew about his parents. He had met them a few times; they had been nice people. And after the Kyūbi attack, his mother had been despondent; mourning the deaths of her best friend and her husband, the Hokage. Mourned them for weeks afterward. She would be in the garden picking flowers, laying the beds, or tucking Sasuke in at night, and out of the blue, she would start weeping. These silent, shiny tears. And then she would just...blank out for a while.

Her hair had grown dull and limp, her movements jerky and robotic at times. It had pained Itachi greatly to see his mother in such a woeful state. Sometimes he had hugged her; held on even when his territorial infant brother would try to push him off her. Until she would wake up and squeeze him back, both of her boys, to her warm breast. And he remembered looking up at her, her hot tears raining onto his little face. And sometimes he had cried too.

But what really weighed down on his mind was thinking about the child Kushina had left behind. How terrible it must feel for him, not to know who his parents were, to have no true family, and be treated like an outcast for things he couldn't possibly understand. A little kid, no older than his own brother.

"Oi! Watch whereya goin', brat!" a harsh voice assaulted Itachi's ears. He snapped his head around.

.

Naruto was laying on the ground, flat on his belly. One minute he was darting out from behind a barrel to continue his pursuit of the dark-haired angel, and the next he had hit something large and _hard_. The fall had knocked the wind out of him, and the angry strangers' shout filled the air. He had gotten himself into some potentially deep trouble. If they recognised him...this would not end well at all.

The blond's mind began to go into overdrive. There weren't too many fair-haired kids in the village, so he wasn't sure if that would provide him enough cover. But on the plus side, he was pretty sure they hadn't seen his whisker-marks yet. He was also lying face down. And then a shrewd, shockingly adult thought ran through his mind.

_I just have to keep my head down, just make myself as small as I can. And they'll leave me alone._

So he kept his head bowed, his mouth shut, and _hoped_.

"Hey, I'm talkin' ta you," the voice boomed above him. This guy sounded big. And _mean_.

"Is he knocked out or somethin'?" another voice asked, this one low and raspy.

"Nah. Lookit him, he's shiverin' like a leaf," and Naruto was. And that just made it worse; three big guys standing above him, that could _hurt_ him. And their derisive laughter began to fill the air.

"Get up, kid." he nudged the little boy with his shoe. But Naruto was paralyzed with fear. And he knew, _he knew _that he was about to cry; he felt the tears pricking his eyelids. Why couldn't they leave him be? All of the people, not just these guys. Why couldn't they...

"And just what is going on here?" a deep voice rumbled. It was rich; firm with authority.

The bullies' laughter suddenly quenched, and the breezy air seemed to still, until it was just hot, and thick with tension. The teardrops had seeped out of his blue eyes now, and Naruto dared, _dared_ to hope for a miracle. Just this once.

"N-nothin's goin' on, s-see," the first bully said, his voice tinged with fear."R-right guys?" he added desperately, hoping to be backed up.

"Oh? And what is that boy doing lying at your feet? Sleeping perhaps, or did you have something to do with it?"

"W-well...that's - I mean..." the leader spluttered nervously, making his guilt obvious."Y-y'see, the t-thing is..."

"Save your breath," the man interjected sharply "the words of an adult who is cowardly enough to pick on a child are worthless. Get out of my sight."

"B-but..."

"Clear off!" the man commanded.

The ruffians didn't need to be told twice. Some panicked, incoherent words, a confused scuffling of heavy feet, and they were gone.

And Naruto was weak with relief, silently thanking the man who had just saved him. He was so lost in his thoughts that he hadn't heard the calm, steady footsteps walk in his direction, until he saw a pair of sandaled feet in front of his nose. With some trepidition, the blond finally raised his eyes.

He saw a tall man near middle age, with shoulder-length black hair and a stern set to his face. Judging from his dress, it was obvious he was a shinobi; this made the blond swallow hard. The man was staring at him with a deep, brooding intensity, almost as if something about the boy bothered him. Naruto had done it now; the man could see his whiskers, and probably guessed who he was. He was probably sorry he had saved _him_.

But suddenly the man's brow cleared up, and he smiled benignly at the little boy. And then he was suddenly engulfed in a puff of smoke.

As the little cloud dispersed, the blond was surprised to see a much smaller person where the man had been. With willowy limbs and silky black hair that grazed their shoulders; almost long enough to tie up. And lovely dark eyes that glowed with warmth and gentleness. Those feathery lashes, the tear troughs...

And it all clicked into place in the blond's mind. It was _her_, the very person he had been following. And then she bent over, offering a hand, still smiling.

"Are you alright?"

He had _never _seen her this close, where he could detect the delicate pinkness to her cheeks and lips. The clean smell of the midnight hair hanging over her forehead, framing her face. And then he looked at her proferred hand. And the thought of _touching _that hand made his heart consrict and leap into his throat. If he touched her, he would be so happy he'd just _die_. It was simply too much for the poor boy to take, having this sprung on him all of the sudden.

Uttering a faint whistling sound, Naruto scrambled up, not taking the angel's hand. Instead he swiftly turned heel, almost tripping over his own feet in the process, he staggered, righted himself, and scampered off as fast as he could. He flew through the Konoha streets, face and ears aglow with a red that clashed blindingly with his hair, leaving a nonplussed Uchiha kneeling there, arm still suspended in mid air, in his wake.

...

_D'aww, isn't chibi Naruto the cutest little stalker there ever was? Yeah, he still thinks Itachi's a girl and loves him to bits. Butt on another note, I don't like how this chapter turned out. It felt forced and mechanical, as I was trying to recreate my old writing style. But I guess it's evolved a bit from when I first began this story. Next chapter, I'm going with my better-developed writing style._

_Peace!_


	5. Chapter 5

I hereby declare that I claim no rights to **NARUTO © 1999 by Kishimoto Masashi/SHUEISHA Inc. **and receive no monetary benefit for any narrative I publish hereafter based on this manga or any of its other media adaptations.

Warnings are in place for slash (male on male coupling), graphic sexual content, manga spoilers, discrimination and violence.

-Xtase

_And now, an interlude..._

Itachi was quite baffled at this queer turn of events. Slowly, he let his hand slump down to his side as he continued to kneel in the dirt between the planked fences. And his eyebrows quirked in puzzlement. Why had little Uzumaki Naruto bolted off so suddenly like that? He had scarcely seen his little feet touch the ground.

The young Uchiha was beginning to regret his decision to masquerade as his father to drive those bullies away. They had been much bigger than he; but they didn't seem to be very clever. And he was a skilled shinobi; they were only civilians. So even if it had escalated into an all-out brawl; he probably could have taken them out himself. But he...hadn't found the idea of using force very appealing. And there was a risk that Naruto might have gotten hurt in the process.

He had chosen the better, less violent strategy. Perhaps it was underhanded, and it could have backfired, but only ever wanted to engage in combat as a last resort. But he had luckily managed to defuse the situation without unnecessary bloodshed and bruises.

And the way the little child had looked at him. Itachi had never seen someone look so _frightened_; and he had seen plenty of fear from his many, _many_ missions. It had made him frown in displeasure to see Naruto's face covered in dirt and snot and dripping tears.

But by far the most disturbing thing, was the look in his eyes, and the quality of his quivering. He had the air of a stray mongrel puppy just _waiting _for a harsh shout and a swift kick to the ribs. Naruto it seems...was _accustomed _to suffering. What had he done, to deserve such unkindness?

Was Naruto so used to people wanting to hurt him, that he had thought Itachi was raising his hand to strike him or something?

The boy thought hard about this for a moment.

After some moments, he slowly, hypnotically shook his head no. No...that was not quite right. When Itachi had revealed himself; Naruto had immediately stopped crying. He hadn't cringed away, or closed his eyes, or put his arms up to shield his face; when he saw the older boy reach for him. He had simply been still; not fear-frozen, just still. As if - in surprise. And before he had run off...that had been a blush on his cheeks, hadn't it?

A strong gust suddenly kicked up the dirt and swept through Itachi's hair. Both whipping strands and hot grains stung at the knowing smile forming on his lips. Itachi had mistakenly assumed the moat obvious thing. But he realized it now. Naruto, he had been...happy, hadn't he?

.

"That's my boy. Thinking like a chūnin before even taking the exam," Fugaku boomed proudly as Itachi sat in he living room before his parents.

His father, his mother, both smiling at him, eyeing him like their precious little gem.

Itachi was kind of regretting telling his parents about this afternoon's incident. But he had been aked about how his day had been; and apart from that nothing out of the ordinary had occured. He would one day learn not to be so honest and open.

Also, the boy was glad that Sasuke was sound asleep, on the other side of the house. These days; he would get a look in his eye that bothered Itachi. This swimming, forlorn glint would shine bright whenever their father showered him with his somewhat overzealous praise. And barely spare his baby brother more than a cursory glance.

Sasuke was...too young to be looking like that. They reminded him of another set of five-year-old child's eyes. Big blue eyes that shone glassy with fear and longing. It made his chest constrict uncomfortably. Itachi's hands bunched the trouser cloth over his knees.

And he let his bangs swing forward to hide his worries from the world. He was growing very good at it.

.

Despite the heat, Naruto had curled himself into a warm ball under the blue sheet on his bed. He was trying to revive the giddy heat that had coursed through his veins this afternoon, when he had finally seen _her_ face to face; in all her radiant prettiness.

Once again...she had saved him when he was in deep trouble. He found himself remembering the stories Mother Nonō used to tell him about guardian angels who watched over you always and protected you from danger. They were always beautiful, and soft-voiced and kind. And all his life he had thought Nonō had been his angel.

But, the Uchiha girl...was she his angel as well? Had she taken over, now that Nonō had left? Was her spirit floating near him now; unseen but felt; keeping him safe and watching him live? Watching - only him...

In a flash Naruto's rounded cheeks began to throb with singing red blush pulses. It was simply to wonderful, and awful to think about. He knew, with happy certainty, that he would definitely dream of her tonight. And maybe...maybe in his dreams; he'd summon enough courage to reach out and touch her hand.

Tonight; Naruto was happy.

.

_Next chapter; another time skip. Naruto finally makes his introduction to a certain special someone._


End file.
